


Echoes

by Zephyrfox



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Realizations, Unrequited Love, maybe not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9806636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox
Summary: Jim Kirk has memories that aren't his from the mind meld with Spock Prime on Delta Vega, and Spock ends up carrying Spock Prime's katra for a little while after his death. Now they both have echoes of their future selves influencing them. Bones just thinks they are both ridiculous.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jaimistoryteller for betaing and encouragement.

 

It was time for yet another shift change on yet another day of their five year mission. James T. Kirk relieved Spock and took his seat in the center of the bridge.

Once more he had to endure watching Spock go off with Uhura. Once more he had to push down the automatic, possessive  _ mine _ that filled him, demanding that he rip his Spock away from her. After all, this Spock wasn’t his. Had never been his.

_ Would _ never be his.

The older Spock hadn’t been his, either. Not really. That Spock belonged with the Other-him, and it really was too ridiculous to be jealous of yourself.

“Keptin?”

He swung around to see Chekov’s anxious face. “Yes, Ensign?”

He let the words of Chekov’s status report wash over him, doggedly keeping himself from looking towards the turbolift, where Spock and Uhura were leaving the bridge. Going off shift. Together.

 

~~~~

 

The five year mission dragged on.

He was tired. He was bored. He couldn’t stand watching Spock and Uhura anymore. He requested a promotion to admiral, and waited for the response.

 

~~~~

 

They received word from New Vulcan first.

Spock was dying.  _ Ambassador _ Spock. 

Jim sat in his quarters, alone, and slammed his drink back. Spock had gone, to be at his… other self’s… side. 

He had offered to accompany Spock. He had wanted to be there when the ambassador — when  _ Spock _ — died. Spock deserved to have a Kirk by his side, even if he wasn’t the right Jim Kirk.

Spock hadn't understood. Had just thanked him for his concern before leaving.

The thought of Spock dying, alone, stabbed him like a knife. It was his pain, and pain from the echo of Other-him that had been with him since the mind-meld so many years before.

He clumsily poured another glass, trying to keep the scream of pain and grief at the thought of Spock’s death locked behind his teeth.

 

~~~~

 

Spock avoided him after returning from Ambassador Spock’s funeral.

The Vulcan would do his duty, no more. Speaking only minimally, as if he were jealously guarding each syllable as it left his mouth.

The only thing that made the uncomfortable situation bearable was the fact that Spock was avoiding Uhura as well.

Jim tried not to feel a thrill of satisfaction each time Uhura looked hopefully at Spock only for her face to fall in disappointment. 

 

~~~~

 

Spock shifted, turning his head towards the captain’s chair. He watched Jim through hooded eyes. His captain was acting depressed, a state he would never have associated with James T. Kirk. Except.

He knew why Jim was upset. He just wasn’t sure what he could — or should — do about it. 

There was Nyota to consider, too.

Did he love her? He thought maybe he did. But what he felt for his captain — Jim — was stronger. Had always been stronger, if he admitted the truth to himself. But he had made promises to Nyota, and couldn’t break his word.

But wasn’t he breaking his word to her now? He hadn’t spoken to her beyond the necessity of duty since he’d returned from New Vulcan.

Ever since his other self had died, he had been uncertain. He had taken Ambassador Spock’s  _ katra _ into his care, into his mind, where everything had felt strangely doubled, him and not-him, until he he could lay the  _ Katra _ to rest in the new Hall of Ancient Thought.

The love — the  _ passion _ — that his Other-self had felt for the other Jim Kirk had caught him off guard. Discovering that his Other-self had felt the same love for  _ his _ Jim had him seeing green with fury.

He had felt the echoes of the mind-meld his Other-self shared with  _ his _ Jim on Delta Vega, and regretted never touching his Jim’s mind in truth. He found it difficult now to keep from reaching automatically for his  _ T’hy’la’s _ mind. 

Humans had an excellent phrase in situations where they were unsure of their course of action:  _ What the hell was he going to do? _

 

~~~~

 

Bones watched Jim and Spock dancing around each other. Well. If you could call all that damned awkward stiffness dancing.

The two idiots were mooning over each other like a pair of adolescent schoolboys. Why they couldn't find the balls to man up and talk to each other was beyond him. 

He wasn’t surprised that Jim was attracted to Spock — hell, Jim was attracted to anyone — but he was surprised that Jim seemed to be so set on the Vulcan, and so hesitant to do anything about it.

As for Spock, he and Uhura had seemed pretty tight, but ever since the Vulcan had returned from Ambassador Spock’s funeral, he hadn’t said boo to his girlfriend.

He stood on the bridge, unobtrusively watching the two as Spock and Jim watched each other, each turning away to pretend to be focusing on something else if the other looked their way. He snorted. These were two of the Federation’s best and brightest. How could they remain so oblivious of each other’s feelings? Idiots. 

Uhura was watching the other two as well. He caught her eye. Her skin darkened in a flush and she turned back to her communications board.

He glanced back at the captain and his Vulcan and rolled his eyes. Neither had noticed. He needed to figure out a way to get them to see sense if they couldn’t work it out for themselves. The sexual tension on the bridge was thick enough that he could cut it with a knife.

It wasn't Uhura’s fault her boyfriend only had eyes for the captain. Maybe he should set Uhura up with someone to get her mind off Spock.

He growled under his breath. He was a doctor, damnit, not a matchmaker.

 

~~~~

 

“Captain.  _ Jim.” _

He turned. Spock was behind him in the passageway, an oddly determined expression on his face. He clenched his fists to keep from reaching for the Vulcan, reminding himself again that Spock wasn't  _ his. _ “Yes, Mr. Spock?”

Dark eyes studied him. It felt like they were dissecting him, and he fought the urge to squirm under the weight of that penetrating gaze.

“You feel it too.” Spock’s eyes locked on his. “But, Jim. What if it isn't us? What if it's only them? How can we be sure?” 

He fought to keep his jaw from dropping open. He understood what Spock was getting at, but he had given up hope that Spock might feel the way he did. This was unexpected. “Does it matter? Is there really a difference between our feelings and theirs? A difference that makes no difference is no difference.”

Spock’s eyes closed, as if in pain. “I don't know.”

He lifted his hand and cupped Spock’s cheek, feeling the fever-hot Vulcan warmth seeping into his skin.  _ “Spock.” _

Spock shuddered at the touch, an all over body shake, then nuzzled into his palm. “My Captain.  _ Jim.” _ Spock’s eyes opened, locking onto his once more.

He licked his lips, wondering irrationally why the air was suddenly so dry aboard ship. He'd have to get on to Environmental Control to check humidity levels. But later. Much later. He shivered as Spock’s eyes focused on his lips and darkened.

“No difference,” Spock murmured, and they were in each other's arms, holding each other tightly.

Jim knew Vulcans didn't often kiss on the mouth, preferring to touch fingers to show love and affection, but he had his Other-self’s memories of heated kisses shared with his Vulcan.

His Other-self’s memories paled in comparison to the real thing.

He wasn't sure which of them started the kiss, their tongues sliding slowly and sensuously against each other. At the same time, their minds automatically reached for the other, melding together out of habit even though it was their first time. It felt like coming home.

When the kiss ended, they touched their foreheads together, trying to regain their breath and some semblance of sanity.

_ “T’hy’la.” _

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love reviews, comments, and any other sort of communication. Feel free to stop in to say hi. You can find me on Tumblr at leavesdancing.tumblr.com.


End file.
